


Distance and Skyline

by coreopsis



Series: Lost Horizons [5]
Category: Da Vinci's Inquest
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-05-08
Updated: 2000-05-08
Packaged: 2017-10-15 03:37:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/156641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coreopsis/pseuds/coreopsis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carries on from Left Undone.  (No spoilers but there are references to "Tommy's On The Corner" (police pursuit) and "Fantasy" (the radio show).  As always, it's not essential to have seen the episodes.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distance and Skyline

"How about...tomorrow night?"

"Can't, Bobby. Got another talk radio thing. How about...let's see...Saturday?" I can hear him flipping through his schedule as I do the same.

"I have to work. Sunday?"

"Gabriella and I are having dinner with my mom." That reminds me that I should call my own mother, maybe this afternoon. "Monday? How about Monday night?"

He's starting to sound just a little eager for resolution, and I hate to have to tell him... "Might be working. Sorry, Dominic."

"Well, let's call it Monday then. If you do have to work, just give me a call and we'll reschedule."

"Okay, that'll do. I'll be sure to listen to you on the radio. The last time I was working, but I did catch a little of it. You really set Jack Pierce's teeth on edge, don't you?" That's about all I do remember from the talk show, the coroner and the city councilman arguing over setting up a red light district. Who knows, it might actually make my job easier, but I doubt it.

"You know what? I have to admit that I like it. I can't help it, Bobby. The guy is so damn stubborn about these things that it sets *my* teeth on edge."

"Oh yeah, *he* is stubborn. Not like you at all." I gotta start shuffling papers to cover the laugh that slips out. Weaver's over there looking at me like I suddenly sprouted another head. What? Can't a guy crack a smile any more?

Hanging up the phone with an impersonal "See ya", I get back to work on whittling down the piles of paper that somehow accumulate every time I step out the door. I shouldn't be so irritated that my coworkers are surprised that I look happier these days. I was miserable after Gwen died and it still hurts like hell sometimes, but not *all* the time. Not any more, and I guess that's mostly because of Dominic.

I have a few friends, mostly other cops, I hang out with, but there's this level of closeness we just don't ever reach. Have a beer, watch a game, shoot pool, whatever, that's cool. Even when Dominic and I don't talk much, it feels...comfortable. Just knowing we could talk if we wanted to. I know I keep stuff in, and I think he does too, but it's a relief to be able to let it out a little at a time. Women want to know everything and they want to know it *now*. Not guys. We don't give a shit what your first date was like, unless there was bloodshed or the police were involved or something interesting like that. And any man who says "How do you *feel* about that?" to me better have a 'Doctor' in front of his name, and even then I might not tell him.

And then with Dominic there's this whole other thing. This friendship-doesn't-begin-to-cover-it thing that makes me think about him just about all the time. It's not even about sex-- well, it is, but that's not all of it. Like watching TV last night and thinking, "Dominic would love this movie. He'd have it all figured out, but he'd love it anyway." Of course, when I called him he wasn't at home--working late again. But the fact is, I *did* call him, and I did it without really thinking about it. It seemed like a natural thing to do. So I guess on one level I've gotten a lot more comfortable about being w-- seeing him.

Comfortable is good, but I'm starting to think this taking it slow business is not so good. I want a lot more from him than I'm getting and I'm pretty sure he's of a like mind. We just can't seem to find the time to do anything about it. Either he's working or I'm working or something else is going on. It's getting to be very frustrating, and cold showers really don't do all that much good, I just end up cold and still horny.

I really need some coffee, but I don't like the way Weaver's eyeing me again. I have to go by her desk to get to the coffee pot, and she looks like she's got something to say if I just give her the slightest opening. Maybe I'll psych her out by going to the restroom first. Yeah, that's a good plan.

 

Wonder what Dominic's doing right now? Good grief, where did that thought come from? Standing at a urinal in a public restroom is the last place I should be thinking of him. Think of something else, Bobby. Oh yeah, like what? Hockey stats, the weather, Judy Weaver, the Jenkins case, anything but the way he smells or the way his body feels when he brushes up against me, and.... Bobby, please, don't think about his mouth. Just don't do that and you'll be okay.

Done. That has to be the longest fifteen seconds I've spent in a long time. Zip, wash, out the door, and coffee here I--

"Hey Bob, got a minute?" Damn. I don't care what she wants, but she can say it while I fill my cup.

"Yeah. What's up?" I should have gone out for lunch instead of trying to work through, but she'd have cornered me some other time.

"I couldn't help but notice that you seem a little different lately." She's giving me an expectant look, so I might as well go ahead and do my part for this conversation that I don't want to be having.

"How so?" Who made this coffee? It's terrible, but I guess it's better than nothing. Maybe a little more milk will help.

"You don't look like you just got punched in the stomach anymore." I absolutely *hate* that he-must-be-fragile tone of voice. I got enough of that right after Gwen... Give her a blank look and maybe she'll go away.

"I mean that it's a *good* thing, Bob. I just wondered how you were doing...personally, these days. Have you, uh, started dating again?" If this is her idea of a subtle grilling, she's got a lot to learn. Maybe Dominic ought to give an interdepartmental seminar to share his techniques. That would be worth the price of admission, but I better not show any amusement or she'll take it as some sort of encouragement.

The shrug didn't deter her and she's following me to my desk, so what...? Ah, what the hell. "Yeah, I'm seeing someone." Now chew on that for awhile and leave me alone, so I can get some work done.

"Anyone I know?" Do the words 'dog with a bone' mean anything to you, Judy? I hope you work your cases with this much tenacity.

"I don't know who you know." Huh. That actually sounded polite--well, the tone anyway. Now I can ignore her without another thought until she goes back to her own desk. I wonder if Dominic could get away for a few minutes this afternoon? Nah, probably not, so get back to work.

 

*^*^*^*^*^*

If I didn't know better, I'd swear the hands on my watch have been going backward. It feels like quitting time should have come and gone already. At least my shift is almost over, and I'm back at the station so-- Shit. Cell phone. If that fucker made bail again... "Bob Marlow."

"Hey, Bobby." Hmmm, it's Dominic, much better than what I expected, especially when he says, "It's almost five o'clock. You about done for the day?"

"It's only four-thirty, and maybe. Why?"

"My last meeting just got canceled, so I find myself with a couple of unexpectedly free hours before I have to be at the radio station. Now I could get caught up on some paper work or..."

"Where?" I'm not in the mood to over-think this. I just want to see him.

"We can meet for dinner or you could come to my place and--"

"Your place. I have to check in with my sergeant, and then I'm on my way. Okay?"

"Sounds good, Bobby." Yeah, it sounds good. What's the catch? This is too easy. There must be a catch somewhere.

"So I'll see ya, then."

"I'll look forward to it." Does he have any idea what it does to me when he drops his voice down like that? Like he's telling a secret that's just for me? If he does, he's more diabolical than I ever would have guessed because he uses it at just the right--make that *wrong*-- moment, like just before I walk into Sergeant Phillips' office.

 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

My hands are shaking a little and my stomach is in knots, but maybe that's just because I'm hungry... Yeah, that's one way to put it. And why can I never find a damned parking space when I need one the most? Ah, here we go and here's his door.

"Bobby..." Okay, that's enough for me.

He tastes just as good as I remember, even better. His mouth is so hot and open and...eager... Want more, want a lot more of this...

But he's pulling away and I have to turn him loose. I don't know how my hands got around his shoulders, but they don't seem to want to let go. I don't want to let go.

"Why don't you come in and stay a while?" He's almost laughing, licking his lips and stepping back inside the townhouse. I can't believe I just kissed him out on the front step. Damn it, what was I thinking?

As if *thinking* had anything at all to do with it. Not even close.

"I already ordered take out. I figured since we didn't have much time..."

Get the brain back in gear, Bobby. And while you're at it, you might as well follow him into the kitchen, but not too close. "Oh... yeah, whatever...it's fine with me."

"Want something to drink? Soda, tea, milk...scotch?" When he's giving me that look, all I want is him.

"Not right now. Thanks." For the moment, I'm content to just stand here and look at him. He seems pretty relaxed for a guy whose workday isn't really over yet. But I guess it's hard to look all starched and proper in sock feet. He doesn't seem to quite know what to do with his hands--opening and closing the refrigerator, refolding a dishtowel, fiddling with the coffee pot--until he offers to take my jacket with a slightly sheepish smile and tells me to go on into the living room.

I'm sure I'm just imagining things and his fingers didn't *really* brush mine all that lingeringly. I mean, that's the stuff of books and movies, right? Not real life. But I think he really did check me out a little. I wish I'd had time to go home for a shower and a change of clothes, but what can you do on a tight schedule? Hope for the best is all.

We're drifting closer together, but I don't really remember moving. Wonder if I could kiss him again before the delivery guy gets here? I know I could, but *should* I? That's the question, because if I do there's a good chance it'll get a little out of-- No. Not out of control. Always stay in control, no other option. I know that.

I'm reaching for him almost before I have time to think about it, and--what was that? A key in the door? From the lack of surprise on Dominic's face as he looks over my shoulder, I guess it must be his daughter, but I don't want to look. I think I'd rather just sit down on the couch and pretend I wasn't about to make out with her dad. What a nightmare.

I hear them over by the door and she's telling how her friend's little brother got sick so she had to come home early. That's some rotten timing, kid. And rotten luck for me. The disappointment in Dominic's eyes as he introduces me to his daughter is a slight comfort.

"Well, I guess I'll put my stuff away. Have you had dinner yet, Dad?"

"No, we ordered takeout. It'll be here soon, plenty for everybody." He gives me an apologetic pat on the shoulder as she presumably goes to her room and he comes over to sit down next to me. "Bobby, I'm sorry, but you know how it is with a kid, right?"

"Hey, it's okay. No big deal. These things happen." And that's all true, but it does little to lessen the arousal that really hasn't faded since the kiss at the door. He's not helping by running his hand over my knee like that. A noise from down the hallway has him pulling away, but I swear I can still feel his touch burning through the denim of my jeans.

Tease. I just know he did that on purpose. He's getting me worked up right when I can't do anything about it. That's not a nice thing to do, but I can't complain too much. I kinda like it...the slow burn that just simmers in your veins when there's no chance of boiling over. It's been years since I felt this way and I definitely like it even if it is slightly painful.

If I shift around a little, bring this knee up higher, maybe my reaction won't be noticeable. Certainly a teenage girl won't be looking for it in a friend of her dad's, right? That sly not-really-a-smile that Dominic is giving me does not help matters. It just makes me want to cross the room and kiss him again, but he's too far away and his daughter is too close.

I shouldn't even be here. I should just go and let them have a little family time together, but...I can't. If I can be with him for a little while longer, I want to and I'm going to have to make myself relax. Stop thinking with my dick and just relax. Yeah, that's easier said than done, but I can do it. I think.

At some point, Dominic must have gone back to the kitchen because he's sticking a glass of soda in my hand. I'm glad there's plenty of ice because I just may need it.

"Thanks. So...uh, what's the show you're doing gonna be about tonight?"

"High speed police chases. A police representative will be there to argue in favor. I think--and what I've seen bears this out--that the consequences, the fatal consequences far outweigh the benefits. But the cops and RCMP don't want to hear that." The doorbell rings, but before he goes to answer it, he pins me with a look. "What do you think about them?"

What do I think about high-speed chases? That's not a subject I've spent much time considering since my own patrol days, and right now there are other things that seem much more pressing--like the careful way Gabriella watches me as we walk into the dining room. I wonder what she's thinking. Doesn't Dominic ever have friends over? When she first got home, she sure looked surprised to see me, but come to think of it, she seemed a bit surprised to see him too.

"So, what's your opinion, Bobby?" Well, at least he let me take a few bites before picking my brain.

"What do I think? Most of them are probably unnecessary, and they can be dangerous to innocent bystanders." Ha. I can tell he didn't expect me to agree with him, but unfortunately I don't think I totally do. "You think we should get rid of them completely? I don't see that happening."

"Why should the police put the public in danger for a stolen car? It makes no sense to put property loss over human lives."

"Yeah, but it's not always a stolen car they're chasing, is it? Look, I don't know, all right? When I was in uniform, I was only involved in two pursuits, and they both turned out all right. But I understand what could have happened. I saw the exact moments that could have gone wrong over and over in my head for weeks after." Well, what else can I reveal about the compulsive faultfinding I'm prone to, huh? How much exactly does he need to know? And what difference does it make anyway? It's not like I'm about to shock him at this stage of the game. "It was...it was a learning experience. Both times. And one of the things I learned was how to avoid high speed chases."

"Yeah? Well, more cops need to learn that so there'll be fewer people dying on the highways." He's going to concede that easily? Not defeat, of course, because we do basically agree, but I'd have thought he'd have more points to make. My thoughts must have shown somehow because he's smiling as he says, "I'm saving the rest. Listen to the show if you want an earful."

Did he just wink at me? I believe he did. It's reflex that has me glancing at Gabriella, who's been quiet the whole time. She's looking at Dominic with no trace of suspicion on her face as she motions to her empty plate. "I'm finished, Dad. May I be excused?"

Dominic has already gone back to his own dinner, but he mumbles, "Yes, dear." She's a very polite girl, telling me it was nice to have met me before she leaves the room. That's gotta be her mother's influence instead of Dominic's. He's not one to worry too much about propriety. That's one of the things I like about him.

Now that Gabriella's gone, the distance across the table seems both enormous and minuscule. I want to say something, but feel oddly constrained just knowing she's in the house.

"So do you know yet if you're free on Monday?"

"Looks like it. What do you wanna do?" Now why did that simple question sound so loaded? I'm sure it's only to my overheated ears that it sounded thick with seductive subtext. Everything does not revolve around sex, and I'd do well to remember that.

"Well...I guess we could see a movie. There's an interesting double bill at The Ridge, or there's always the multiplex which has more new releases than anyone in their right mind would want to see." I haven't been to The Ridge Theater in a couple of years, since that woman I was seeing--what was her name...Marilyn, Mary Anne?--dragged me to that Spanish film festival that lasted for a small eternity. Who needs entertainment on a big screen when we could make our own?

Quick glance over the shoulder to make sure we're still alone, and then-- "Yeah, or you could come to my place. I can guarantee a completely kid-free environment. For whatever..."

"Oh yeah? That sounds promising, Bobby." Dammit, he's twinkling at me again. I may have to forget his daughter's around here somewhere and kiss him again. Hard and deep and so involved that he wouldn't be looking at his watch like that when it was over.

"If I don't get going, I'm gonna be late getting to the radio station." He's picking up our empty plates and dumping them in the sink, as if he hasn't just...well, he didn't really do anything, did he? I don't need much in the way of encouragement where desire for him is involved.

So I guess I should get out of here before I do something I shouldn't. "Okay, so Monday night, you'll come to my place? I'll be home around six." When he stands so close and looks into my eyes like I'm the only thing on Earth, I couldn't move if I had to. I know I should be leaving, but I'm stuck here...

...until his lips brush mine. I have to open my mouth to him. It's the least I can give him... Even the lingering traces of curry from dinner can't overpower the unique taste of his mouth. I can't think of a single thing but the heat and simplicity of desire...

 

He's walking me to the door and I wonder why it seems so complex when we're apart, but the moment we touch everything falls right into place--as if it's just the way things should be. I'm too smart to think that some things are "meant to be." Life's too damn capricious to work that way. That's been proven all too painfully too many times for me to ever believe it.

"I'll be listening to the show tonight." There's nothing that could keep me from it.

"I'll see you on Monday, Bobby." How does he pack so much promise into five little words? It's an amazing talent, but doesn't come close to what he does when he says my name like that.

His hand on my back feels like a promise too. But now the door's shut and I have Monday to look forward to...

 

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks and hugs to Nicole, Barb G., Mouse, Shug, and Penny. They are all quite wonderful, so if any mistakes remain, it is my fault.


End file.
